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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27641063">quotidian</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LEEHYU6KIES/pseuds/LEEHYU6KIES'>LEEHYU6KIES</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Coming of Age, Dancer Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Dancing, M/M, Mark Lee (NCT)-centric, Passion, haechan knows mark well, i love markhyuck a lot i just-, idk how tags work, mark is graduating</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:08:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,184</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27641063</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LEEHYU6KIES/pseuds/LEEHYU6KIES</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>quo·tid·i·an | \kwōˈti-dē-ən\<br/>1.	a: occurring everyday<br/>b: commonplace; ordinary<br/>2.	: often observed or encountered</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>quotidian</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>How did this go again?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wait no - the main reason for that would be-</em>
</p><p>"Maaaaark, come on, you’ve studied more than half of all the subjects for finals and it’s three weeks away." Lucas whines, loud enough to disrupt Mark's train of thought. "And you’ve just started like four days ago, at this point you don’t even have to worry about waltzing in to med school after college."</p><p>Mark twirls the pen in his hand, a habit he picked up in middle school whenever he tries to focus on a topic. It's like this most days, Mark trying to get at least 20 pages of information tattooed on his brain, while Lucas barges in, plopping on his bed, convincing him that he has done enough studying – when actually, he isn’t even close to meeting the quota he made for himself. It wouldn’t be the best idea to take a break, if he wanted med school that bad and wanted to get into one of the top schools in the state, he would have to work for it.</p><p>Mark hears a shuffling of bed sheets; Lucas was probably standing up to go look for someone else to bother. After hearing nothing but silence from the other, Mark concludes that Lucas has given up.</p><p>It’s only been a few seconds, then he hears the familiar tune of the intro to Post Malone's Wow. Mark sits still – well, he at least tries to. Feet tapping to the silent beats of the song, counting off the kicks before the pre chorus starts.</p><p>"C'mon dude, you better stand up and dance with me or you’re going to let your brain fry itself from the amount of chemical formulas you’re memorizing."</p><p>Mark spins his chair, narrowing his eyes at Lucas, raising his eyebrow a second after. His feet were begging him to join in, it reminded of the times he used to love performing.</p><p>_____________________________ . _____________________________</p><p>
  <em>Let’s not get the steps wrong</em>
</p><p>He gazes upon the people watching with anticipation, some with admiration and some with eyes clear of support. The way his beating heart was thrumming in his ears surprises him, like he’s going to combust the next second he refuses the idea of backing out from this performance.</p><p>
  <em>You won’t lose anything when you dance, Mark.</em>
</p><p>Beside him were the members that recruited him to participate for the school’s music and arts festival. They looked ecstatic, like being up on stage was the only purpose they ever want to live up to. He wonders if he looks the same way as them from another person’s perspective, or whether people had that impression of him.</p><p>His heartbeat seems to get louder, the annoying ringing in his ears as he sees the rented DJ handle the music they’re performing to. Mark doesn’t miss the cue of the DJ, with his right hand up in the air counting off, 3, 2, 1. The beating he was initially annoyed with was now muted, he finds himself lost in the music instead.</p><p>“Mark, god, I wish you saw how you danced on that stage, you were, like, someone else and you were glowing? I don’t know how that makes sense but- “</p><p>“What she’s trying to say is that you did so well! And we’d love to see more of your performances in the future.” Mrs. Lee makes her way through the few fans Mark has gained over the 4 minutes he has performed, as they squeal and jump around hyping Mark up.</p><p>Don’t get him wrong, his friends are amazing and the energy they exuded is beyond enough to help Mark’s adrenaline rush to steadily descend, but this felt so overwhelming for him. Although he was not able to see himself perform, he does think that he understands what his friends were saying, he felt it. It might be short lived but it was such a strong surge of passion and he came to conclude that he wouldn’t be trading this moment for anything else.</p><p>_____________________________ . _____________________________</p><p>Mark is 18 when he realizes that he’s wrong, he does want to trade the moment he was in at that time. He misses it so bad – he can’t miss it, no matter how beautiful and exhilarating each performance was during that year. He had things to do, schools to get in to, admission tests to pass, money to bring home for trying times. All these thoughts coming to him all at once, it’s suffocating, he thinks there’s not enough time for that so he brings himself above the surface of the sea of thoughts he has made for himself.</p><p>He flips through the last chapter of the text book he started within that week, noting important names and terms he should remember that could come up in exams. Once he finally finishes with the textbook, he plans on moving to the library to return the textbooks as well as study there since Lucas told him it was game night with his friends at their place.</p><p>A few more pages later and he collects the books he has borrowed and heads to the library. He scans the shelves for the books he’ll be using as references for notes, then walks and finds a place in one of the many tables the library offers.</p><p>“Mark?” A fellow student calls out.</p><p>Mark brings his head out of the book he’s reading, looking for the owner of the voice that called him. He’s greeted by a pair of careful but bright eyes, hands fiddling with fingernails. Mark tilts his head, and sees the student’s group – of friends, perhaps – urging him to keep going when glancing back at them.</p><p>“H-Hey, hi, uhm I don’t think I know you. Funny, ‘cause I usually remember names of people I’ve met.” Mark hesitantly replies, searching for a name that would fit the delicate features of the boy in a rather soft looking outfit, sleeves of the cotton-candy colored sweater hiding most of the boy’s hands.</p><p>“Maybe because this is our first-time meeting?” A shy smile playing on the curves of the boy’s lips. “I’m Haechan by the way, a year below you, I know you from the performances you did when you were a sophomore.”</p><p>“Oh”</p><p>“I wanted to say that I look up to you a lot in terms of dancing? Also, that you use your techniques so well and that your body lines when dancing are absolutely flawless.” Haechan continues with a nervous chuckle, worrying that he might be taking too much of Mark’s time.</p><p>Mark stays silent, not knowing what to tell the boy in front of him. He settles with a little thank you, making sure to show a smile showing that the compliment is appreciated.</p><p>“See you around, I guess.” Haechan bids farewell, his figure retreating and walking back to his group of friends, some of them with a playful glint in their eyes, others patting his back for finding the courage to say that.</p><p>__________________________________________________________</p><p>
  <em>Ah, shit I’m late.</em>
</p><p>Mark may or may not have over studied the night before and exhausted himself. There’s at least fifteen minutes left of the class he’s late for, so he decides to just skip it and sit in a different schedule when he’s free. He hurriedly washes up and tries to look presentable, giving up a few seconds later as he puts on a hoodie he found on the floor. He decides that he needs coffee to wake him up before heading to the next class he has all the way at the back part of the campus.</p><p>“Mark! Hey! It’s been a while since I last saw you. Are you taking what you used to order?” Johnny greets. Johnny is one of the few dancers in the crew he was in that he had gotten close to. He also switches part time jobs as a barista in the campus café and a DJ in some of the clubs at the city. He looks the same, warm and comfortable for anyone who tries to interact.</p><p>“Oiiii, it has been a while, I’ve been cutting down on the caffeine as much as I can. And yes, I’ll get the usual.” But even before Mark has agreed, Johnny has already started making his mocha latte with a few more espresso shots.</p><p>“So, what have you been up to these days?”</p><p>“Fixing my college admissions resume, finals, med school.”</p><p>“Ah, it’s good to be past that stage in my life. You seem tired though, you’re probably not taking care of yourself properly. Remember that time you were trying that one move and you overworked your shoulder- “</p><p>“Not to be rude, Johnny, but I have a class to get to in like 10 minutes and it’s all the way at the back of the campus. It was nice seeing you again though, we can catch up through text if you want to.” Mark rushes to grab the cup of coffee – more like, rushes to avoid the memory. He looks up to Johnny and smiles, waving good bye as he heads out of the building.</p><p>It didn’t take him that long to reach the building, so he takes his time walking through the halls looking at bulletin boards that hung up announcements. He sees the familiar logo of the organization he was once in, “UNVEIL: On the Streets” the poster reads, also stating ‘catch us perform live throughout the campus on the day before graduation!’.</p><p>
  <em>They must be performing to celebrate the last day of school as a crew.</em>
</p><p>__________________________________________________________</p><p>“Mark? Fancy seeing you here.”</p><p>Mark turns around, ready to greet the familiar voice he once heard in the library. It’s a Thursday and he has class in one of the buildings in the east part of the campus. If it weren’t for the need to complete the units required, he wouldn’t be here. He would have avoided this place at all costs, it was a place full of the things he once loved - emphasis on the past tense. He came a little early, which was a huge mistake in his opinion.</p><p>“My elective, music theory, is here. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that class.” Mark says, bringing his head up to meet Haechan’s eyes. He looks different today, navy blue tie dye shirt clinging on to the younger boy’s body, evidently drenched from sweat. His hair is tied back into a pony tail, forehead exposed with beads of sweat beginning to form across it. “You have practice with the dance club?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m in charge of one of the routines. I take it that you hate this building?” Haechan chuckles, takes one, two, three gulps of water and Mark can’t help but watch and count. There’s always something about the post-practice glow dancers have, breathless, face paler than it usually is, blush still on cheeks from all blood rushing through. Mark thinks that Haechan looks good in it, stunning even. He coughs and tries to hide the way he was obviously staring.</p><p>“Hate’s a pretty strong word though, maybe more along the words of dislike?”</p><p>“Whatever it is, what is it about this building? Is it the ghosts? The little child by the end of the hallway?”</p><p>“What? No, oh my god. I didn’t even know about that. It’s just too much for me, makes it hard to let go of the person I made through these very walls, the person I let venture out in to a world- “</p><p>“Have you ever thought that it’s hard because you know you don’t want to let go?”</p><p>Mark stands there in silence, trying to comprehend what the boy right across him said. The boy who he knows only from a single interaction in the library, but feels like he has known all his life, and Haechan clearly feels the same way Mark does, reading him like a book. Mark suddenly feels vulnerable and bare, all the layers that he has been making for himself coming down like drapes showing off a trapped tiger in a circus. He tries to look for the layers, and desperately tries to pull them up, back to how composed he was before this.</p><p>“Maybe, hahaha.” Mark clutches onto the drapes that came down, holding them up carefully. “I have class to get to, enjoy practice, I guess.”</p><p>__________________________________________________________</p><p>It’s around 6:15 on a Saturday when Mark receives a text from Johnny, offering to drive him out to the city to grab a couple of drinks – lemonade for Mark– and some catching up. Mark wants to decline, he really wanted to get some sleep. But he was neither sleepy nor occupied, he had just finished his requirements and a chapter of a textbook earlier than he was originally supposed to.</p><p>
  <em>What could you possibly lose?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Time.</em>
</p><p>“Yo? Are you heading out? I mean, you probably should. I feel like you’ve drained yourself of your own social life.” Lucas peeks his head out of his door, when he hears Mark’s footsteps through the kitchen.</p><p>“I might.” Mark replies, grabbing a spoon for his cereal and settling on the stool by the counter.</p><p>“You should go for it, there’s two weeks left ‘til finals and college applications don’t start until it’s, like, the second week of May.” Lucas reasons out, heading to sit down on their sofa, turning the tv on.</p><p>
  <em>What could you possibly lose?</em>
</p><p>He struggles to look for an answer and decides to just go for it. The small font of his phone reading out ‘<em>I’ll see you at the café at 7?</em>’ flashed out on his screen as he presses send. Hurrying to prepare for the night out, he quickly finishes what’s left of his cereal. He doesn’t do much to prepare and walks to the café.</p><p>“Glad you could make it, I feel like you’re struggling with something, and since you’re an only child, I feel like I’m responsible for being the bigger brother figure here.” Johnny says as he turns on the car’s engine.</p><p>“When you met Ten, were you scared of being vulnerable?” Mark decides to open up the topic, hoping that it won’t flow to the subject of performing.</p><p>“Hmm, maybe at the start, but more than scared I felt secure. It’s pretty reassuring to know that someone could handle and take care of you.” Johnny glances at him. “Did you meet someone? Someone who reads you better than all of our crewmates did?”</p><p>“Yeah, I guess.”</p><p>“Do you think I know him?”</p><p>“You know everyone so I’m pretty sure there’s a big chance that you do know him. The name’s Haechan.”</p><p>“The junior with soft sweater paws? Soft-spoken at first but gets comfortable way too easily?” Mark chuckles at Johnny’s description. “I’m sure were talking about the same person. I met him at that reunion the club had, skill’s pretty sick for a seventeen-year-old.”</p><p>They arrived safely at the venue, conversation flowing as smooth as it could. It reminded Mark of the times Johnny was there for him when he was worried that he wasn’t doing the routine properly, times he wasn’t able to hold himself up together properly.</p><p>“Oh, so he got you thinking?” Johnny asks, asking the barista for a lemonade and scotch on the rocks.</p><p>“More or less, yeah.”</p><p>“And you feel that he’s right?”</p><p>At that, Mark stays silent, once again flustered over such an idea. His eyes wander around the place Johnny has brought him to, which isn’t much, to be honest. It’s a very calm atmosphere and provides a sense of comfort. Johnny chuckles at his reaction proceeding to carry on with the conversation, telling him about the entertaining stories of people requesting for the most questionable songs and so on.</p><p>“You know, Mark. There’s another reason as to why I brought you out to the city.” Johnny says as they stand up and wear their coats, ready to head out of the venue. “You’ll see soon.”</p><p>Mark hears the feint sound of music blaring through speakers just right around the corner they were walking towards. He sees the small crowd gathered upon that corner, a few 'ayeeeee' s and oooh's thrown in as compliments. It's been a while since willingly looked at such activity. He avoided performances so much, he forgot how it felt like.</p><p>In the next few seconds though, he is reminded of the feeling. The familiar warmth of blood rushing through his body a bit too quickly, the beating of his heart heard in his ears a bit too loudly, the aching of his body to move the way he has wanted to lately.</p><p>Just like that, Mark’s body was already one beat in and Mark's mind was one step too late, unable to prevent him from moving to the music. He feels like he has travelled back in time, instead of a heart broken due to forcing to fall out love with his passion, there’s the memory of his first time performing on stage as who he is, who he wants to be known for.</p><p>He dances like he used to, reading the flow of the music as he quickly thinks of steps that he could transition to. Before the beat drops, he braces himself, right foot coming forward as he pushes against the ground and turns in the air bringing his right arm above him to achieve a higher peak. He lands on his left foot safely, hand on the ground for support. He looks up sharply on the next beat that hits.</p><p>He sees Johnny in the crowd, a fond smile on his face and his phone just right below his chin, filming his whole performance – very dad-like of him, Mark might even say.</p><p>Losing track of time, Mark lives in the moment as the song shifts to something more soft, similar to a ballad. He gets ready to switch up the genre to a more contemporary version of his dancing. Arms hovering over space, trying to reach beyond his usual. He feels lighter, his body carrying him upright, unlike all the times he had his back hunched over the desk light reading out biochemicals and taking note of their purposes.</p><p>
  <em>You weren’t made for this, Mark.</em>
</p><p>The familiar voice of his mother rings in his ears, louder than the beating of his heart, louder than humming of the violin as the instrumental starts. Mark thinks that it felt all too cliché, like a scene in a movie where everything collapses on the main character.</p><p>"I can’t." is all that he manages to get out, with a defeated smile, eyes sad and heavy with tears threatening to fall. He looks for Johnny, but Johnny was ready in his aid.</p><p>It took Mark a few minutes to be able to compose himself. Johnny was kind enough to not start the car until he was assured that Mark can push through. He lets them head back to the campus in comfortable silence, drifting off to sleep.</p><p>__________________________________________________________</p><p>It’s Sunday and Mark doesn’t know what time it is but he woke up to a notification going off on his phone, blindly tapping over it he opens the message and reads</p><p>[i just wanted to say that im sorry for asking you that, it might have been too personal for you. i hope youre doing well and not stressing yourself]</p><p>[its haechan by the way]</p><p>Mark wonders how Haechan managed to get his number and assumes that Johnny was behind all of this. He was proven right after another ding from his phone that said ‘<em>got your number from johnny, hope you dont mind hahaha’</em></p><p>He quickly replies ‘<em>yea no its alright, we’re good, haha'</em>, genuinely appreciating the concern the honey skinned boy was showing. Groggily moving to the kitchen to get breakfast, he sees two figures on the couch and thinks that it's Lucas and his friend Hendery watching tv. While preparing his cereal, Mark hears another ding from his phone. As he finishes, he grabs the bowl and his phone setting them on the table in front of the couch.</p><p>Lucas looks at him, wiggling his eyebrows clearly wanting to know more about the boy that has been texting Mark.</p><p>“It’s just Haechan. By this point, I think everyone knows him.” Mark answers the question he knows Lucas wants to ask so bad.</p><p>“Haechan? Tan skin and soft smiles Haechan? Sweaters, big shirts and cardigans boy? Looks soft but dances like a monster?” Lucas sits straight, as if the name of the boy was enough of a serious topic to talk about.</p><p>“Well, I haven’t seen him dance, but I do know he’s preparing for a routine for the unveil event.”</p><p>“He?! He’s preparing something?! I might as well just not attend classes on the last day of high school.”</p><p>Mark hears another notification go off, seeing the ‘<em>are you free tomorrow? around 4 or 5, wanna make it up to youuu</em>’ on his lock screen. Lucas scoots closer to Mark’s side, face squished against Mark’s shoulder, trying to see what has gotten the boy all wide-eyed. Lucas waits for him to respond, repeatedly looking at the phone, and then at Mark, at the phone, and at Mark again.</p><p>“Well? Are you free?” Lucas asks him again, just in case Mark wasn’t able to read the text right.</p><p>Marks trying to look for an idea of what Haechan would probably do if he said yes. Take him out to coffee perhaps? Go bowling? But bowling doesn’t seem like an activity to be done at 4 pm, it’s usually later in the night. A movie? Maybe. He doesn’t know what it is and it scares him a little.</p><p>“Go for it. If it makes you feel more at ease then get some studying in first before meeting him.” Lucas says, he knows how Mark can get when anxious, after all being best friends since 8-year-olds brings the inevitable skill of reading each other.</p><p>__________________________________________________________</p><p>Mark’s shaking.</p><p>He doesn’t know whether it’s because of how the weather has just gotten so chilly, because he wasn’t able to focus that much on the textbook he was trying to finish reading earlier, or it’s because of the fact that he knows he’ll be meeting Haechan in just a few minutes. He’s standing right outside of the room of Haechan’s last class, which he knows of after being told that they should meet up there.</p><p>He tries to hold his phone, tapping away at his screen, to see if it would help calm his nerves. He notes down the lecture he was studying earlier, trying to remember the key concepts. He managed to type at least two of it when he hears Haechan talking with his friends as the students exit the room. He tries to make way for them by sticking close to the wall, hoping Haechan would see him sooner.</p><p>“Mark! Hey, you made it! Honestly thought that you were going to bail on me.” The voice is so distinct, Mark doesn’t fail to recognize it. A second later, he meets the eyes of the boy that reminds him of cherries and a field full of flowers, but he could tell Haechan was so much more than that despite only knowing him from two interactions. Haechan has that glow again from the time Mark last saw him, Mark thinks it’s weird because the boy clearly wasn’t radiating a post-practice glow, maybe, it was just him.</p><p>“Oh, don’t get on your high horse, I actually did consider the thought of bailing.” Mark jokes.</p><p>“Awh, sucks that you could actually resist me.”</p><p>“Johnny was right, you do get comfortable a bit too quickly.”</p><p>“Only with those who I think are worth it though.” Haechan says, winking right after. Mark looks away, not letting him see the blush creeping on his cheeks that could possibly feed to the growth of the younger boy’s ego.</p><p>They head over to the arts and designs building at the east side of the campus. Mark feels himself carry on the walk with heavier steps, his body dreading to be there after what has happened that Saturday night. He feels a hand wrap around his forearm urging him to continue to walk towards the building.</p><p>
  <em>It’s pretty reassuring to know that someone could handle and take care of you.</em>
</p><p>He remembers Johnny’s words, and with the hand carefully gripping on his arm, he might as well just give in. He takes a deep breath, walking towards the room where he spent most of his time as a sophomore in. It’s all too nostalgic for him, the mirrors around the room taking up the space between the floors and the ceiling, the speakers at the back and everything else.</p><p>“Is it okay if I teach you the routine I made up for the unveil performance?” Haechan says dropping his bags by the corner of the room, taking off his cardigan and begins to prepare the music. Mark follows his lead, making sure his belongings won’t be in the way. He has nothing to lose, he’s ahead of his lectures and his application forms are ready. He lets the sophomore version of himself to roam free in his mind, begging him for one last dance.</p><p>“I’ll let you hear the music first, so you know how it goes.” Haechan says from across the room. The familiar genre of house music starts to play through the air.</p><p>Marks legs were already bouncing up and down, itching to learn the choreography to the playful tune. It’s only a few seconds later when he couldn’t help himself and dances to the music. Legs making a variety of small and big movements, following a pattern before deciding to switch it up, making sure that each step he makes is defined.</p><p>There’s something about freestyling that Mark loves most. It’s so different from when it’s choreographed. Freestyle is all about the spontaneity, the once in a lifetime pattern of moves, the sudden burst of energy you’ll never have again. Maybe it’s how freestyling helps you enjoy the moment as you feel the music rush through you instead of your blood, and when the song’s over you’ll immediately miss the feeling. It’s fleeting, yes, but in the best way possible. He hears Haechan’s soft chuckle but continues with dancing.</p><p>“Maaaan, you didn’t have to show off you know? You’re here so I can teach you the routine.” Mark hears Haechan joke as the boy begins to walk forward leaning on the bar just in front of the mirrors. “The seniors of the crew didn’t lie when they said you’d be good at this.”</p><p>“Bold of you to assume my batchmates would lie about how good I’d be in this genre.”</p><p>Mark strangely feels at home, safe and sound, feeling like he’s in his own bubble. This place was so much more of a home than the piles of textbooks he had back in his dorm. If he were asked to define what comfort was, he’d probably say that it’s this room. He didn’t mind having Haechan see him, after all he was a dancer too, so Mark is sure that Haechan resonates with this feeling.</p><p>The music comes to a stop and Mark has come down from his high from when he was freestyling. The song repeats and Haechan places himself in front of Mark to finally teach the steps of the choreography he made.</p><p>“Just so you know, I made choreo for this song part house dance and urban, the switch up happens around the 2-minute mark.”</p><p>__________________________________________________________</p><p>Mark begins to think that dancing has yet again became his ordinary. It’s not that he wanted to encounter anything dance related on an almost daily basis – he actually does want to, but he won’t be admitting it out loud any time soon. He feels like he’s going back to the person he was as a sophomore, giddy over music, feet impatiently wanting to move and feel the rhythm. It seems like each day intentionally holds something related to dancing, and worse, he finds himself looking forward to it.</p><p>Yesterday in Physics class, his professor was talking about momentum and presented a video analysis on the way b-boy dancers execute a certain move.</p><p>Just earlier this morning he saw a group of girls modifying the routine for a dance break of a girl group song.</p><p>And right now, he’s texting Haechan, has been ever since the younger boy got a hold of his number. Mark tries to cut off or end conversations when he has the opportunity too but Haechan finds even the littlest of things that he wants to share with Mark. He doesn’t know much about it, but he definitely doesn’t mind talking to him, even when it’s about dog breeds and how sunflowers are superior among other types of flowers. He looks down on his phone for the nth time today when he hears the familiar ‘ding’.</p><p>[so, will you be dancing with us for the last day of the school year? well more specifically with me cause I taught you my choreography?]</p><p>Mark doesn’t respond.</p><p>__________________________________________________________</p><p>He’s back to his usual state, no, not with dance as his ordinary. But he’s back with the way he’s supposed to be, focusing on what he was made for. Head buried in text books, right hand aching from the way he has been gripping at his pen, making his knuckles turn white. His mind should be set on acing finals, which is now only 3 days away. Mark’s thinking too much but he doesn’t know what about – what for. This last textbook isn’t making sense, the letters in the names of toxins are starting to rearrange and Mark tries to at least grasp the definitions laid in front of him. His mind is elsewhere and he wanted it back.</p><p>Mark’s trying so hard to get the offer out of his head. He doesn’t know whether to be mad or excited. He doesn’t know if he didn’t want Haechan to cross the line or if he wanted him to cross it.</p><p>It has been at least a week since Haechan’s text, or maybe more than a week? Heck, Mark doesn’t even keep track of time anymore. He’s back to desperately avoiding his every day, and now spends more time cooped up in the comfort of his dorm knowing that he wouldn’t have to run into anything dance related there. The dorm only has his roommate but Lucas knows Mark and even if he could get annoying sometimes, he wouldn’t push such a sensitive topic on the other.</p><p>For days, whenever he had to go to classes, he either heard people talking about the upcoming performance or runs into the crew mates he was once close too. It was hard for Mark to avoid them and being such a people pleaser isn’t that easy either.</p><p>__________________________________________________________</p><p>
  <em>Applications next</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wait no, you’ve got them sorted and they’re not until May.</em>
</p><p>Mark outdid himself, again. And now he’s worried that since finals are done and his applications have been handled, he’s not busy again. It’s hard when not busy, there’s so much more time to think. In a sense, Mark thinks he has lost his mind, full of thoughts he can’t even identify, so he does what he does best, run away from them.</p><p>He goes for leisure reading at the library, “The Queen’s Gambit” catching his eyes from the synopsis on the cover of the book. He’s heard about it through a few classmates discussing about it in his literature class too, so he doubts that it would be something that he regrets reading.</p><p>He starts at 10, forgets to eat as he lounges across the couch in one of the secluded parts of the library and realizes that at around 5 pm. By that time, he has around 2 more chapters left and decides to let himself be hungry for a while. The moment he gets to finish the book, he lets out a satisfied sigh.</p><p>
  <em>Well that didn’t disappoint.</em>
</p><p>He returns the book on the shelf and heads out of the library, deciding to settle with an early dinner at the cafeteria, despite the mediocre quality food. As he walks toward the building, he hears feint shouts, like something cheering. And it’s clear to Mark that it’s the sound of the crew when he hears the ‘ha!’ and the ‘tak! tak tak!”, also it’s well-known that the back of the cafeteria building is usually where the crew would always practice.</p><p>“Hey?” It’s Haechan again, he’s coming from the cafeteria with a couple of his friends that are also members of the crew, the same few faces he saw with the boy on the first time they met at the library.</p><p>“Oh, hey.” The tension is so strong it’s felt by Haechan’s friends so they leave first nodding their head in silent agreement that they’d meet again at the back. Mark scratches the back of his head not knowing where to look, his feet tapping against the pavement in agitation.</p><p>“I’m gonna get straight to the point, I’m sorry that I asked you that question. I should have known not to push since it’s a very sensitive topic for you. But I’m not sorry I made you think, you and I both know you want to perform. All I’m asking for is one last time, let yourself ask for it too.” Haechan deadpans and walks away.</p><p>Mark feels his eyebrows furrow, the grumbling of his stomach reminding him that he has to eat. He might be hungry but yet again he feels so easily read by the boy that reminds him of sunrises, a bit harsh for a few minutes but a reminder that it is a new day and there is something to look forward to. Mark wants to say something, reach out to Haechan and tell him-</p><p>
  <em>Tell him what mark?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That he’s right.</em>
</p><p>But Mark was never the person who faced his emotions head first, he was never someone to chase a problem that he ran away from.</p><p>__________________________________________________________</p><p>Mark was told to pick up the papers from his maths professor on the last day of school before graduation. He feels like something is up, he feels uneasy and unsettled. He tries to ignore the feeling as he walks through the hall of the math building turning on the first right in order to reach the faculty. He gathers the papers with a note on top saying ‘Mark, it’s this pile and thankyou’ and bows his head to the other teacher occupying the room.</p><p>He runs into Johnny, who was sitting by the bench near the arts building, when heading back to the dorm and was told to sit by him. Their conversation doesn’t last that long, he tells him of how Haechan has made his play by asking him to come perform his segment of the performance and Johnny tells him to think about it, he wouldn’t lose anything anyway. “One last dance, and if it’s really a finished discussion then you can still go to med school, don’t let yourself regret not taking up the offer.” Johnny said, as he walked away saying he had to meet up with a few friends.</p><p>Its 9:40 am and Mark’s on his way back to the dorms to sort through his activity sheets and papers from the second semester of his maths class. He looks through his bag in means of finding them, but remembers he never actually placed it in his bag.</p><p>The papers...</p><p>He left the papers-</p><p>
  <em>I left the papers on the bench.</em>
</p><p>His eyes widen in realization and prays that he left a book on top of his papers so they wouldn’t fly around the place. Mark runs towards his door, the sound of it banging against the wall coming a millisecond later from the speed Mark was exhibiting. He literally bumps into Lucas in the hallway and tells him 'Sorry dude, have to pick something up, I forgot to lock the door to so- yeah' and then continues to run through the hallways of the dormitory.</p><p>He gets to the art building in no time and scans the benches lined up around the space of the said establishment. He mutters a little thank god the moment he sees that he left his music theory book on top of the papers.</p><p>But before he could even reach the bench, a loud siren was heard. It wasn’t the school's alarm, no – it was glitching, so it couldn’t possibly be the school’s. About three seconds later, students came out of nowhere growling towards the air, the unveil performance must be starting. Among those students, he sees Haechan.</p><p>He looks good, Mark thinks, a bit too good that it should be illegal. The theme of the outfit he – and the crew – was wearing was tech wear and his main colors were black, silver and neon green. The bucket hat on his head was big enough to cover half of his face but the moment Mark met his eyes-</p><p>
  <em>Oh my god.</em>
</p><p>The sparkly gray liner just below his eyes was too much for Mark and with the way his lips curve into a smirk when Mark gulped a bit too hard while staring, Mark knows that he’s aware of how fetchingly gorgeous he looks right now.</p><p>The familiar introduction of the song Haechan used rings through the speakers placed parallel to the ends of the building. Haechan positions himself in the center showing off the hand signs the crew has made ever since it was established. A few beats are heard and they start with a power move. Each movement defined and they were so in sync, levels matching up together despite the difference in height. It looks like the choreography was hand crafted by gods.</p><p>Mark stares in awe at how it came out so beautifully as a crew. He feels his body dance the moves Haechan has taught him while he watches with the audience. It's been so long and he thinks, maybe a little dancing for a ‘farewell high school’ wouldn’t be so bad.</p><p>
  <em>One last performance, Mark.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There’s one last performance, let yourself have it.</em>
</p><p>And as always, his body has reacted quicker. He circles through the area of the dancers making sure to steal no attention. He's just behind the performers, next to the bench he left his papers at. Mark slides his bag down his arm and places it just beside his papers.</p><p>It seems that Haechan knew Mark was going to give in. The moment the outer layer of the pyramid formation was split, Haechan rushed to his side. Reaching over the bags behind the bushes and handing Mark a black utility vest with the minimalistic initials of the crew embroidered on the right side, just over his chest.</p><p>"Cap?" Haechan offers, seeing that Mark's hair has been disheveled after so much running.</p><p>Mark smiles and take the cap from Haechan's hands. He offers his left hand and Haechan meets it with his right, then they bump shoulders and tap each other’s backs with their free hand.</p><p>"You’ll be performing center when the pyramid opens up, exit left when it transitions to urban jazz, then enter upstage just behind me before the beat drops, you know the cues already." Haechan hastily gives Mark a guide to help in the smoothness and fluidity of the performance. "You’ll do great, but if you ruin my choreography, you owe me a date."</p><p>Mark was about to reply when he heard the music cue, body automatically moving to what his muscles remember when Haechan taught him the steps. Haechan was positioned on his left, oozing with charisma and charm.</p><p>Mark feels so alive, it’s surreal. More alive than he has ever felt when he heard he aced his finals, than the moment he saw his mother’s smile when he told her that he has decided to go for medical course. He loves it better when this is what is considered his ordinary, he loves that this is his every day without even forcing it to happen. He remembers the first time he was ever up on a stage, how his members looked so ecstatic, like they were born to perform.</p><p>Mark wonders if the audience sees him the way he saw his other members on stage with him back then. Although that could be answered a bit later after the performance, he sure does feel like he radiates the same energy. It feels so good to be able to make this the last memory of his high school life, to be able to live in the moment again as the music surges through the atmosphere, pushing away his worries. It’s less suffocating than when he was trying to deny the fact that dance was what he was made for. He feels light, up in the sky and he’s glad he went for it.</p><p>A few more killer steps and a lot of footwork after, the song has finally ended. He ran up to Haechan and gave him a hug so tight. Haechan doesn’t need to ask what it was for. It was Mark’s little thankyou to Haechan for letting him know the steps, for knowing what he truly wanted and for asking Mark to give dance one more chance.</p><p>They pull away from each other with heavy breaths, smiling at each other the moment their eyes meet. Mark supposes that this was what being up on cloud nine felt like.</p><p>"I know I said, you only owe me a date if you ruin the performance and since you didn’t, you don’t have to do anything. But you managed to steal the spotlight from me, so I guess you kinda still owe me a date." Haechan says, giggling as he playfully bumps Mark's shoulders.</p><p>"You could have just asked, you know, I would probably say yes anyway." Mark shakes his head, hardly believing that he just finished a performance without breaking down. Haechan laughs at his response, agreeing that they should go out after Mark’s graduation.</p><p>"Oh, by the way I saw you earlier, before you saw me come out, I mean. You looked like you were looking for something? Were you able to find it?" Haechan asks.</p><p>Mark looks down as he carries his bag over his shoulder and his papers in his hands, wanting to stay in this moment forever. He realizes that he doesn’t have to give up dancing. Whatever will be, will be. If the universe hadn’t pushed how this was his fate all up on his face for the last few weeks, Mark would have probably continued with life questioning if the happiness he felt on stage would ever be felt again. He doesn’t have to grip so tightly on to the drapes to shield him this time. The eyes which he thought were preying on him were actually of assurance that people are willing to hold him up.</p><p>"I feel like I'm the one who has been found instead."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>wrote this for a project in school and i thought about uploading it here too. this is basically my first fic ive ever written, i know im not that good but hshshs i did enjoy writing this. the project was to write something about the things i love, and of course as a first fic i thought of letting it be special and personal, so it revolved around my passion, dance. i hope you enjoyed readingg</p></blockquote></div></div>
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